


We don’t see What others see

by angededesespoir



Series: Gency Week [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (soldier & reaper are also kinda there), Angst, Explosions, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Other, Serious Injuries, Trauma, body horror mention?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9168682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angededesespoir/pseuds/angededesespoir
Summary: In which Genji sees Angela cry for the first time since his return.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Gency Week- Day 1- First. Get ready for the Hurt/Comfort, folks. [Also my first time writing Mercy. And this is also my first fic. of 2017. Yay!] Soldier is also in here, as well as mentions of Reaper, b/c that’s just the way this panned out. *Shrugs* (Can be read on[Tumblr](http://angededesespoir.tumblr.com/post/155310610475/we-dont-see-what-others-see).) _

It’s like the Swiss Base incident all over again. (Not as bad, but just as terrifying.) She watches with horror as she catches sight of the bombs going off, a portion of a building collapsing into rubble- right where she knows 76 should be. 

She doesn’t give herself time to process, to plan. She flies, quickly, lost somewhere between present and past. She is pulling away debris, jagged edges cutting into palms. There is noone around to help, just like before, and it’s several pain-staking minutes before she is able to remove enough to access the unconscious form. 

He lays prone, biotic canister near his hand and still unused. She frantically sets to work, removing shards, staunching wounds, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand, instead of the image creeping into her brain. _Jack- half dead. The burns. The blood. So much blood. Too much. And Gabriel, found hours later, barely in one piece. The injections. The curl of smoke and ash. A mistake, a **mistake** \- and then the Smell, flooding in. _

It’s the smell that brings her back. The smell of sweet rot and something she cannot name, but would recognize anywhere. _Gabriel._ No, _Reaper_ , now. 

She looks around, body tensing. Around a corner, still intact, she thinks she sees smoke furling. But if it was there, in the next instant, it is not. She looks for several seconds more, hands moving blindly in practiced motion. She looks back down, fingers sliding to Jack's wrist to take a pulse, as she wills him to open his eyes.

She is startled when she hears a soft thump by her side, feels the light breeze generated by momentum. After all this time, he is still good at sneaking up on her.

“Angela, we were looking everywhere for you!” The ninja moves closer to her, crouches. “Are you okay?” He glances down at Soldier. “Do you need assistance?” 

She tries to compose herself, looks at him, and nods. “I’m fine. And for the most part, 76 is, too. But I need help carrying him back to base.”

“Say no more! I got you.”

She smiles weakly. “Thank you, Genji. Careful with his head, though. He has a concussion.”

\-- 

It’s hours later when he makes his way to her office, carrying two cups of tea. He reaches the door, open several inches, and is about to announce himself when he hears a sound that freezes him in place.

_A sob._

It’s the first time he’s seen or heard her cry since he has returned, and it pains him just as it did in the past. 

He silently nudges the door open, slips inside with a whispered, “Angela.”

She turns in her chair, startled. “G-Genji!” She’s wiping frantically at the tears, still rolling down her cheeks, adverting her eyes. “I’m sorry. What did you need?”

The cups softly meet worn wood, and one hand is grabbing at some kleenex, while his other removes the mask. 

“Here,” he says, as he hands her the tissues. “This will help.”

She takes them, wiping at her face and blowing her nose as he pulls up a chair. “T-thank you.”

He frowns, hand gently curving around one of hers. “Angela, what’s wrong?”

She looks down. “It’s nothing.”

The hand squeezes tighter. “Angela, please. I won’t force you to tell me, but I can’t help you unless I know what is wrong.”

“It’s just.....It’s just that I keep failing everyone, Genji.”

His eyes widen. “What do you mean? Most of us wouldn’t still be standing if not for you. You are a vital part of this team.” His thumb tenderly strokes her hand, warm metal on cool flesh. “What’s bringing this on? If it’s the incident with Soldier, it’s fine. He’s okay. And it’s not your fault. Everyone knows this. They don’t blame you.”

“I know.” She stares down at the joined hands, feeling a confusing mix of emotions. Half of her wants to pull away, be alone. The other half wants to bury her head in his chest and let out everything she’s holding back. “I know, but.....but I cannot forgive myself for past mistakes. I hurt people, while trying to do good. While trying to save them.” There are tears burning her eyes, blurring her vision. “You’re one of them. I hurt you.”

He’s stunned. He shakily brings a hand to her cheek, brushes away the tear that slowly falls. “Angela, what do you mean? You’ve never hurt me. You’ve saved me more times than anyone can count! And for that, I’m grateful.”

She still does not meet his eyes. She brings up her hand to grip the one on her cheek. “I put you in this body to save you. And you might be fine with it now, but back then.....” She closes her eyes, tries to breath. “Back then you hated it. You consented, but it took you so long to accept the changes. You got yourself hurt more often, like you were trying to.....," she can't finish. "It.....it drove you away.” _From us.....from me._

He lets go of her hand, then. Places it on her back and drags her close, until her head is on his shoulder, and both of his arms are around her, one hand soothingly rubbing her back. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. That was the past. And I never blamed you. You did it because you are a good person, because you care. I never blamed you- I was only lost, conflicted. I wished that I had been better, stronger, so I didn’t have to put you in that position to begin with.” He presses a kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry for not making that clear. I’m sorry I caused you pain. But I’m here now. I’m here,” he tightens the embrace, “and everything’s going to be okay.”

There’s sniffling and a muffled, “Thank you, Genji.”

He tenderly rubs her back, kisses her head again. “It will take time to heal, but have faith and an open heart. One day you will see what I see.”

She doesn’t say anything, just curls closer, allowing herself this one small comfort. 

Angela wants to believe him. She wants the memories to stop haunting her.

She tries to breathe, takes in the scent- green tea and shampoo of flowers-, and tries to forget what death and blood and mistakes smell like.


End file.
